


So Where Do Baby Dragons Come From?

by Damalia (Achrya)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Dragons, Fairies, Fluff, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Pregnancy Talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 12:04:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6153147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achrya/pseuds/Damalia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jean married a full-blooded dragon shifter he went in prepared for anything. Except his mate deciding it was time to have some whelps. With him. Dragon pregnancy is...new.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Where Do Baby Dragons Come From?

**Author's Note:**

> I’m petty so now this exists. Gay dragon baby fanfic, with a side of gay fairies (laugh it up.) and such. Pretty self indulgent.

There were a lot of little things Jean had to adjust to when the knowledge that he was part dragon came out. Shape shifting. Wings. Scales. An extremely long lifespan. The urge to hibernate. A preoccupation with shiny things and the tendency to blow smoke when someone got too close to said shiny things. Small stuff, really. 

And he’d met Marco and learned that, as it turned out, dragons came in a lot of types (like Marco’s water to his earth) and were as varied in this dragon forms as in their human forms and, actually, some of those dragon forms were kind of sexy. The internal crisis about thinking Marco was attractive when he shifted into his dragon form had nearly been enough to make him reject everything about that part of himself but he’d learned to deal. 

He hadn’t had much choice since meeting Marco had come with a whole lot of other not so small things like the realization that the world he knew wasn’t the only world, not by far, and that once you opened the door it was impossible to close it.

Marco had brought the big wild worlds of magical creatures right to his front door, for better and worse. Suddenly he wasn’t alone, some strange freak hidden among humans, but sharing space with elves, fairies, nymphs, and just about everything else under the sun. He’d been accepted into a small dragon clan, given a space on their lands to call his own (suspiciously close to a river which he knew now was a strange thing to let an earth dragon set up near but was ideal for a water dragon), and started learning more about what he was with Marco’s help. 

He’d even managed to court the other dragon and only made a fool of himself 1 or 2 dozen times in the process. Marco insisted he’d been very impressed by his courting dance and gifts but Jean was half convinced it was pity that had gotten the water dragon to accept him in the end. 

Marco was, he’d been told a time or two by certain asshole earth dragon parties who would remain nameless but lived nearby with their fairy mate, the sort of dragon who had ‘options’ after all. A full blood of good breeding from a well regarded family, smart, funny, patient, kind, and his long serpentine body was covered in scales the most beautiful iridescent blues that Jean had ever seen. The way they caught they flexed and caught the light when he was sunning by the river was-

Exactly the sort of thing that had caused Jean’s gay dragon panic. 

Seven years after their bonding and Jean was still pretty grossly smitten with his mate. He kept waiting for that to change, to wake up and look at whatever form his mate was in and not feel his heart beat faster and a stirring inside, but it hadn’t yet. Of course they had a few hundred years to see b+ut dragons were supposed to be in love with their treasure forever and, in his more sappy moments, Jean figured that meant Marco was stuck with him. 

He hoped the sentiment was the same but considering Marco had put up with his idiot fumbling in the first few years he was sure the odds were in his favor. 

He was positive that getting past the ‘Wait, I can fucking fly? These wings aren’t just for show?’ hurdle meant they’d gotten past the worst of his ‘raised in the human world’ issues and had more than proved that Marco was dedicated to his stupid ass. 

“You’ll want to be careful visiting Armin and Eren for the next few...well. A while.” Marco said as he crawled out of the river, huge leather wings unfurling from his body. Water beaded off of them and his scales, droplets shining like jewels as they dripped down. He didn’t shake himself to speed up the drying process before he started shrinking into his other body, thankfully. 

It wasn’t that Jean had an aversion to water or anything, he just preferred to stay dry whenever possible. He, unlike Marco, actually had to deal with waterlogged wings (they couldn’t all be covered in a water resistant film now could they?) And sure, he was sitting on the edge of the river in his human skin but wet clothes would have been a real hassle too. 

“Why’s that?” He asked once Marco was more or less human again and had plopped down on the sandy bank next to him. 

With clothes on Marco passed for human fairly well, aside from the odd shape to his pupils but without clothes it was pretty obvious. There was a pattern on his skin over his stomach and chest in the same milky blue his belly was colored when he was a dragon that resembled small, tightly set scales. There was something similar along his spine, though a darker blue and a larger more loose pattern. He also blue coloring around his finger tips and dark, nearly black, fingernails as well. 

Also all of his ‘bits’ were internal until they were needed.

Jean’s reaction to getting Marco naked and finding out there was a...slit (that didn’t resemble any kind of human anatomy he’d even seen had) was something Marco had laughed about so hard the entire mood had been broken. Jean had spent the night sulking instead of engaging in the sex he’d thought he was going to be having. 

“They’ve decided to try for a...clutch?” Marco tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. “I’m not sure what faeries call it. A litter maybe? No, probably not. I don’t think they have multiples. Live births seem like such-”

“What?” Marco had lost him at ‘clutch’ though ‘litter’ was a more familiar term and ‘live birth’ was helping with context but he felt like he was missing something. 

“A baby!” Marco said, looking pleased with himself. “That’s what humans call hatchlings, right?  They’re going to try to get pregnant and have a baby. Or babies? I’m really not sure how fairies handle those things. I should really ask if I’m going to be helping out. There isn’t nearly enough information on mating between the races if you ask me. What if something happens? Armin is so far from his people and-”

“A baby?

Marco blinked rapidly in the way he always did when Jean interrupted one of his ‘rants in the making’. “That’s the plan. Armin was by earlier to let me know; they want me to be their healer for the pregnancy and birth.” 

Jean got the feeling that the situation wasn’t nearly as strange as it seemed in his head. “They’re both men.” 

Marco’s brow furrowed. “And? Is that a problem?” 

Apparently not. This was far from the first time he’d found himself looking at a situation that was, by human standards, insane. Some people had, when he’d first been picking things up, treated him like a particularly stupid child because the so-called basic things were things he was learning in his twenties. 

Marco was never like that. Even now he looked confused but not judgmental or mocking. That, the ability to accept that Jean’s ignorance of the magical races was no different than Marco’s own ignorance of humans, had been something that had set him apart from everyone else Jean had met in the beginning. 

“Two human men can’t have kids. Only women can...you know. Carry a baby.” 

Marco’s face lit up in understanding. “Oh! No no, all fairies can carry.” 

Jean squinted, trying to picture Armin pregnant and drew a complete blank. Wings and pointed ears and even magic he could accept but pregnancy was, it seemed, pushing it for his brain. 

“That’s...efficient.” Is what he settled on. Marco laughed and nodded his agreement. “And he and Eren are...compatible?” 

Eren was a very large fire dragon in his natural form and Armin was a small (by human standards. By fairy standards he was average bordering on tall.) fairy. Jean’s mind conjured an image of a tiny dragon, then a dragon with tiny fairy wings, and finally a huge dragon head on a tiny humanoid body. 

Marco laughed again. “Are you really asking that? You? The half-breed?” 

“...that’s fair.” A little rude but fair; Jean had heard ‘half-breed’ tossed at him like the worst kind of insult more than once but to Marco it was just a statement of fact and there wasn’t really any other term for human mixes. 

Another smile and then Marco was leaning into him, resting head on Jean’s shoulder. His hair was still a little damp but the unseasonable warm weather and bright spring sun had him mostly dry.

“Dragons are able to mate with most of the other races. We’re impressive like that.” Marco’s toes touched the water, causing ripples to spread over the surface. “Armin and Eren shouldn’t have much trouble. It is easier if the dragon partner is the one carrying but Armin is healthy and Eren’s presence should keep the child from trying to shift before it’s born and that’s always the biggest risk.”

Jean hummed thoughtfully then bumped his knee against Marco’s playfully. “And they have the best healer around right next door.” 

In a relative sense anyway. Their territory was actually miles away from Eren’s but it wasn’t anything a fully grown dragon couldn’t cover in a few minutes. 

“That too.” Marco agreed. They sat in silence for a few minutes, Marco peering down into the river and Jean still trying to grasp what he had just learned. Also trying to deal with the idea of Armin and Eren being parents. They were older than him by a few decades, as was Marco, but dragon and fairy maturity was different from that of humans. As far as ‘adulthood’ went they were at about the same point and the idea of his friends with children was something he hadn’t considered yet. 

Then again he hadn’t known it was something that could happen. 

“Fairy dragons are only a little more common than human mixes overall so it makes sense you wouldn’t be aware of them. They’ve got smaller dragon bodies, wings in both forms, less visible dragon traits in humanoid form.” Marco’s hand found his own, fingers seeming very strange next to Jean’s very human ones. 

Or maybe Jean was the strange one. He still wasn’t sure.

“Sounds like human mixes.” Aside from the wings in both forms part. 

“Mmhmm. Our children would be similar. More human than me, more dragon than you.” 

Jean blinked. Then jerked away to stare at at his husband, mouth dropping open. “O-Our children?” 

Was that a thing? Could they- could all dragons carry too? Could he? ...wasn’t that something he should know? Shouldn’t someone have told him?! 

Why hadn’t he put more work into dragon breeding information? Oh wait, because he’d gotten as far as ‘courting rituals’ and then stopped because he’d been sure that, what with the Big Gay Dragon thing, was all he would need. How dragons reproduced hadn’t been of much interest since he’d figured it was a none issue. 

And...children? 

Him? 

Someone’s father? 

Marco sure, Marco would be great at it but him? He just barely understood what he was, how the hell would he make sure kids did? And what about all the other less human friendly dragons out there? How would he teach children to deal with something he hadn’t learned how to fully cope with yet?

Marco looked back at him through lowered lashes, expression a mixture of nervousness and unhidden hope. “I don’t know if you’re given it much thought, or any at all since you’re so much younger technically, but mating season is close. Not that I couldn’t wait another fifteen years it’s just...I don’t know. I can feel the season coming and Armin was here and I started thinking and I...want hatchlings with you. I knew that the first time I saw you.”

His brain was reeling, splintering off on too many tracks to keep up with at once but Marco’s quiet words cut through him, made him inhale sharply as his heart stuttered. “what? You want to have kids. With me? On purpose?” 

Had Marco hit his head lately?

Marco’s thumb was rubbing small tight circles on the back of his hand. “Dragons don’t really have kids accidentally so...yes. And it doesn’t have to be this time, we have so much time ahead of us, but I just…I wanted to know what you thought.”

“I don’t think-I mean.” 

“Ah.” Marco’s face didn’t fall so much as completely close up and it felt a lot like being punched in the gut. “It’s okay if you aren’t ready. I’m not pushing and I’m sort of springing it on you so it probably seems like I’m pushing but I’m not. I can wait. Or we could never have kids. I...don’t know. I’m just talking and I am going to stop now.”  

Jean rubbed at his eyes with his free hand. ”W-we can have kids? The two of us?” 

“...yes?”

“And...I mean. Can all dragons, you know...give birth?”

“No, why would you-OH! You didn’t- We talked about this before you started courting me.” Marco’s expression melted into something amused. “Alphas and omegas, remember? We talked about whelps and us and mating season...no?” 

Jean huffed. He remembered something about all of that, vaguely, when they’d been talking about the way dragon’s ‘ranked’ (Whelps were most important then omegas and then alphas) but he’d figured it was a family thing or...something. Especially when Marco had informed him that he was an omega and the Jean was an alpha. The Bodt’s were like two steps from royalty and Jean was a half-breed who’d never met his father so it wasn’t as if being at the bottom of some sort of social ladder had shocked him.

It hadn’t come up since so he’d never thought to pursue the issue. In his defense there was an actual fuckton of dragon stuff he’d been trying to learn all at once in order to get to a point where he could court Marco successfully. Dragons were crazy about that sort of thing. Gifts, and specifically jewelry, were presented, the ability to hunt and fight had to be displayed, a home and den prepared in an ideal location (and how grateful had he been to be near the river when he’d realized that?) proper respect paid to the family and then the horrifying dance to show off his wingspan and scales…

There had  been a lot going on. Forgetting something that would take seven years to come up again couldn’t be held against him. 

“Alphas sire.” Marco’s lips twitched up into an indulgent smile. “And I’m an omega so If we decided to have whelps I would carry and lay the eggs.” 

The idea of Marco laying eggs didn’t do much to help his thought process. In fact it may have made things worse because he had...so many questions. “So how would we, hypothetically, do...that. Make eggs? Do you lay them and then I jerk off on them or something?” 

Marco’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “We aren’t mermaids. Next you’ll be asking if we eat our own eggs.” 

Jean’s eyes rounded. “Do mermaids-”

“Certain mermaid breeds are terrible creatures.” Marco interrupted while putting a hand over his mouth. “And the answer is sex, Jean. Just like we normally do. It would be the least complicated part. You’re even sort of good at it.” 

He scowled. Sort of? Marco smiled again then pulled his hand away to lean in and press a kiss to the corner of Jean’s mouth. He accepted the kiss then, when Marco started to settle back down:

“Where do the eggs come out of?”

So. Many. Questions. 

“Come inside. I’ve got books. With pictures.”

Jean let himself be tugged up to his feet and up the hill that their house sat on, mind still abuzz. Pictures sounded like a good idea. 

\---

Jean wasn’t sure if the books helped. He just shifted from being shocked that children were possible (He'd tried to explain how he'd 'heard' the talk they'd had before their courtship started but Marco had just been confused) to being shocked that it was something Marco would want to do. 

“Live birth seems worse.” Was Eren’s opinion on the matter. It was two weeks later and they were in the space behind Eren’s house watching Armin flit around between the fruit trees looking for...Jean actually wasn’t sure what he was looking for and he didn’t really feel the need to ask. One minute they’d been talking about the whole horrific egg carrying and laying process and the next Armin had taken off to poke around in the pear tree. 

Fairies were strange little creatures at the best of times and Armin was considered exceptionally strange from what Jean was given to understand. 

“Did you know fairies carry for eleven months?” Eren continued, eyes narrowing in what might have been panic. “Isn’t that insane? You’d think the whelp would be big enough to just kick it’s way by then.”

“I can hear you.” Armin shouted. He drifted towards them, dragonfly like wings beating furiously behind him. “And we’re born very small.”

He used his hands to outline something that was roughly as big as Jean’s palm. Eren shivered next to him. 

“Doesn’t make sense to be so small after that long. What if we lose them?” 

Armin snorted. “A dragon losing their whelp? That’s likely.” 

Eren didn’t look consoled. “What if I shift and step on them?” 

It seemed like a fairly legitimate concern in Jean’s opinion. Armin just sighed as if Eren was causing him physical pain then floated behind his mate to wrap arms around his neck. Eren reached up to touch Armin, his red tinted fingers and thick talon like black nails looking that much darker and sharper against the others pale skin. 

“You aren’t going to step on them, feed them the wrong thing, or leave open a window and let them ‘escape’.” Armin cast a look towards Jean and rolled his eyes as if to say ‘You see this shit?’. “If you keep acting like this you won’t even make it to mating season.” 

Eren made a face then turned his head to bury his nose in Armin’s neck. “Dragon whelps aren’t as delicate as fairy podlings. You can drop them out of a tree-”

“Why would you do that?” Jean interjected because, frankly, it sounded like a terrible idea no matter who the potential baby (whelp? Podling? That was a new one; why couldn’t they agree on one universal term?) took after. 

“Fairies nest in trees, like...like harpies or something!” Eren said it like it was the worst thing in the world. His mate sighed loudly; Jean got the feeling he was catching a glimpse of a well treaded argument. “Instead of in caves like sensible creatures.” 

“You know who else nests in caves Eren? Trolls. Do you want our podling to be raised like a troll?” 

“Hey.” Jean frowned. Caves were actually really comfortable. He was a fan. It had been weird at first, sure, but there was something about having earth all around him and the cool darkness of a cave that he really enjoyed. 

Armin rolled his eyes again then, finally, settled on the ground. “Anyway. Does all this worry about Marco laying eggs mean you’ve decided to try this season?”

Jean opened his mouth to say no. Then closed it and shrugged. It was about all he’d thought about the past two weeks. Marco hadn’t brought it up, except to remind him that the season was only six weeks (now four) away and that, while there was no pressure (Jean was of the opinion that knowing this was a once every fifteen years kind of deal was a certain amount of pressure.) there were things that had to be done first and the more spent ‘trying’ during the month long mating season the better so Jean hadn’t either but…

He was floundering a little bit. Going from something seeming like an impossibility to not just possible but fairly normal and typical was a whole lot to take in and that was without the clock counting down. 

He knew Marco wouldn’t bring it up again until he was ready, be that a week or fifteen years down the line and he appreciated that but it still felt like he had something hanging over his head. 

“I don’t know. Could you see me with kids. Whelps. Whatever?” 

Eren’s fingers tapped over Armin’s arm. “Sure, as much as anyone else. Why not?” 

Jean wanted to tear his hair out, or maybe Eren’s. How could he sound so casual about it? Had it been so easy for him and Armin to make that choice? “I don’t know, because I have no idea what do with a...dragon baby. Or any kind of baby? What if I’m terrible? I just...how did you decide?” 

They exchanged a look and Jean could tell they were having a conversation with just their eyes. It felt sort of intrusive to watch how they seemed to understand each other completely with a few shirts in expression and a minute tilt of the head. 

“We didn’t last season. We weren’t sure we’d be any good at it or that it wasn’t too soon or that we wouldn’t drop it out of a tree.” Armin’s lips twitched. “And now it's been fifteen years and we still aren’t sure so we figured we might as well. If we keep waiting to be sure it might never happen. It just...feels right? When I think about what I want I see us and children so...why not now?” 

Eren nodded. “Yeah. I’ve never even seen a fairy dragon but...I guess we’ll just make it up as we go? Try our best to not step on the whelp or let it fly out a window, keep it safe and warm. Eat anything that threatens it.” 

“Eren you can’t eat everythin-”

“If something threatens my whelp the hell I can’t eat it. Don’t get all ‘It’s wrong to eat sentient creatures’ on me.”

Eren and Armin were two of his closest friends. They’d been by his side almost as long as Marco had and, while there had been some growing pains along the way (Which it seemed was totally normal when you got two alpha dragons together and, really, he was pretty sure Marco was lying when he insisted they’d talked about that once before as well.) but he considered them more than just part of the same clan but like family.

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Only it sort of wasn’t. 

\---

“You want to do this? Really? Have you read those books?” 

Marco looked up from the book on Fey anatomy he was reading, momentarily confused. Jean had been in and out all day doing Gods only knew what out in the rain (Jean hated the rain and Marco was honestly a little concerned) so he’d spent the last two hours on the couch by the door with towels and the occasional cup of hot tea. 

Now Jean was back in again, changed into dry clothes, and standing in the middle of the room asking questions like they’d been in the middle of a conversation already. 

He looked down at the book in his hand then back at Jean. “Do what? Help Armin with the birth? I’m only up to the first trimester in fairy pregnancy so I haven’t gotten to anything gross yet but I think-”

“No.” Jean waved a hand like he was shooing any annoying bug. “No. Us. The mating season. Eggs.”

Marco closed the book with a thud. It had been nearly three weeks since he’d brought it up and they hadn’t really talked about it since. He knew Jean had been to see Eren and Armin a few times, he presumed to get an idea of...something from the other couple. He’d actually figured that time spent with those two would completely put Jean off the idea since all they did was panic and fuss (they were sort of high strung.) while still weeks out from even attempting to get Armin pregnant let alone dealing with a child. 

He didn’t mind waiting, he really didn’t. 15, 30, 60 years: it didn’t make that much difference. ...well 60 might have. He’d be 115 then which was just about middle age and egg carrying became much riskier then. Between that and the tendency of dragons to not have more whelps until the first clutch was well into their forties most dragons never had more than 2 sets. 

In dragon culture Jean was still a child of sorts and it was something Marco had fretted over as far as bringing up whelping had gone. Maybe it was just too early for him. He didn’t seem to feel the pull of the upcoming season where Marco was already tired of feeling sore and irritable and sweaty and aroused all the time.

Maybe he’d never feel it at all. Jean was sort of anomaly and it was to say how things would or should work with him. Human half-breeds were very rare because so many dragons saw humans as some lesser race, on par with...deer and cows. Not that dragons ate humans.

Anymore. 

Usually. 

Marco never had at least. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have shown you those pictures.” 

“Probably not.”  

Marco wasn’t laughing even though the face Jean was making was hilarious. Laughing wouldn’t help; his mate was very sensitive about not knowing everything there was to know about his dragon half even though no one could possibly know it all. 

“Come here.” When his mate was sitting next to him on the couch, Marco’s quilt tossed over his lap and legs as well, he took Jean’s hands in his again. He took a breath and did his best to keep his face devoid of humor. “Once or twice. I’ve even helped with a few egg layings last season. It’s sort of what I do for a living, if you forgot.”

Of course he mostly helped with actual healing but then the mating season was once every 15 years so it wasn’t like it was something he could participate in often. 

“And you still want to have kids. With me?”

Jean asked the strangest questions sometimes, as if Marco would have mated himself for life to someone who he didn’t think was worth having whelps with. 

“Of course with you. There’s no one else I would want to do that with. Starting a family with you would be...it’s what I want more than anything.” Marco made sure to keep eye contact as he said it, hoping that would help Jean understand what he was saying. 

He wasn’t always so sure Jean was listening when he told him how much he loved him and how happy, how lucky, he felt to be his mate. Jean worried too much about bloodlines and what the older dragons thought, gave too much attention to the cruel words

“Even though they’ll be partially human and people will give them shit.” 

Marco had thought about that a few times yes but never in the context of reasons to not start a family with Jean but in the context of ‘I will burn anyone who hurts my whelps to ash’. Which was, admittedly, not the sanest of approaches to bullying. 

“There’s nothing wrong with you and there would be nothing wrong with any whelps we had so yes, even then.” 

“I don’t know anything about being a father. No example, you know?” 

Marco squeezed Jean’s hands. “I think you’ll be great.”

Jean smiled wryly. “Well you also think you love me-”

“I do love you.” 

“And that having kids with me is a good idea-”

“It is.” 

“So your opinion is pretty suspect.” 

Marco was frowning and the fact that Jean looked like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry just made him want to take him by the shoulders and shake him. “You’re my husband, my mate, and I wouldn’t have tied my life to yours if I wasn’t absolutely sure that being with you for the rest of my life, and having your children, was what I wanted.”

Jean sniffed. “Admit it, I’m the only idiot who would put up with your parents’ and their year long courting process.” 

“You’re the only one I let start their one year courting process so, by default, yes.” Marco said slowly, sighing in relief as Jean’s lips quirked upwards. “And I thought your dance was very nice.” 

“The book said if we do this, try to breed, and by the way is there another word for that that’s less gross, that I have to dance for you again. Can we skip that?” 

Marco’s heart leapt but he scoffed outwardly. Jean was speaking in the hypothetical and there was no reason to get excited yet. Still he felt a prickle of heat inside of him, and not the fire and smoke breathing kind. His body sensed a ready and willing partner and knew instinctively they didn’t have much time to get everything in order. 

He wanted to pounce and sink his teeth into Jean’s neck then ride him until they were both sore or he’d worked out the energy that was building up in preparation for the mating season. 

But that might have been jumping the gun a little bit

“Of course not. It’s tradition Jean, the alpha has to show off for the omega, how else can I be sure you're up to snuff if you can't do the dance? I can't just let anyone fertilize my eggs." Jean made a face like he'd tried Hanji's cooking again. Marco swallowed his snicker and pressed on. "Where’s your respect for mating rituals?” 

Jean eyed him skeptically. “A year of courting. A year, Marco, that should count for something. And do you think Eren is dancing for Armin? It’s not like it would do anything for him.” 

“Yes. He’d probably under one of those trees right now,” He couldn't believe fairies nested in trees. Caves were much safer. “Showing off his scale pattern. His courting dance actually burned down the back of that orchard. Armin was so impressed he actually dragged him into the house to consummate while the rest of us were putting out the flames.”

And they’d been loud about it too. 

Jean’s eyebrows were so far up they were practically in his hairline. “Really? Huh. Well. I’ve been fixing up the den like the books said. Making it...nestable? Is that a word?”

Marco's mouth was suddenly very dry and the laughter he'd been holding in vanished. "I don't think so." 

"Well either way that's what I've been doing all morning. You'll need to look at it, make sure it' s up to your standards of course, but it feels...right?"

Marco licked his lips. He could feel his other self pushing under his skin, all too ready to respond to the gesture. Alphas made the home, prepared the nest, did the dance, and everything else before the season to prove the could provide and were strong and worthy and *ready*.

Nesting, it seemed, was a huge turn on because he was having a hard time thinking of a point where he’d wanted Jean more. He let got of Jean's hands to wipe his sweaty palms on the front of his pants. Had to keep calm. Could not initiate sex on the couch. Other people sat there when they visited and there was a nest to break in

He bit his lip against a groan then focused his attention back on Jean who was watching him with unveiled interest. 

"Do you have some kind of nesting kink? Is that a thing? Is this going to get me laid before mating season?"

Marco smiled thinly. His husband was a jerk. “Are you sure about this? It doesn’t have to be now Jean. We can wait.”

There. He'd gotten that out and everyone was still wearing their clothes. His self control was amazing and these were things he needed answers to before things went any further. Whelps were forever after all.  Even a week ago Jean had been walking around like he was on eggshells, clearly uneasy. Hell he looked uneasy now. 

“No I’m not sure.” He laughed dryly. “But I want to anyway. When I think about me and you and whelps or babies or podlings-”

“Podlings?” 

“It feels good. Like the right thing.” He shrugged. “That’s the part I can see clearly and I’m hoping you’ll figure out the rest like you always do.”

Marco pursed his lips. “Or we could figure it out together. I’ve heard that’s a thing.” 

“Or that.” 

Marco laughed then slipped off the couch, tugging Jean with him. “Show me this nest so I can fuck you on it. For practice.” 

Jean snorted. “Wouldn’t it have to be the other way around for-”

“Shh.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm kind of tempted to write about this month long sexfest and dragon anatomy (sex bits being on the inside just seems so much more efficient, doesn't it?) but also tempted to write about this year long courtship Jean was subjected to and Marco's reaction to realizing Jean's bits are on the outside ("They just...hang there? What if you get hit?").


End file.
